The Wine Shrine

Monday, June 15, 2009

She was right. Things are different now. She is different. She is treating us differently. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's a little reserved. A little indignant. A little smart ass. A little embarrassed? I don't know. I am probably different too. I don't understand her choices. And I am working to separate my disappointment from the obvious. That she is in denial. I am reminding myself that these are her choices; these are not my choices, and frankly they have very little impact on my life.

Oh, alright. Her choices should have very little impact on my life. And possibly I'm the one making wrong choices by assuming I can help her. That I can talk her out of this situation. "C'mon, just leave that asshole. Your kids are depending on you." I understand that it's not that easy. But are things getting any easier otherwise?

It's always interesting when friendships and social circles change and evolve. I did see some kind of change approaching in the group I associate with. There are layers of people in this group. In other words, there are a few I call very close friends and spend a lot of time with. There are a few I consider to be good fun and I enjoy seeing them, when it happens. There are a whole bunch that are really just acquaintances. Over the course of the last couple of years I have watched a group of about 20 women (and sometimes their husbands too) tripping all over themselves and one another to gain that "best friend" status. I have seen a few of the gals drift off and spend more time together. I have seen couples become good friends with other couples and hang out a lot together. I have seen the parents who have girls start to formulate their own cliques and not include the parents who have boys. (By the way, the parents of boys always want to include the parents of girls because when little girls are around, our little boys are much happier. But that's a topic for another day.) I have seen those who have (a lot) more money than the rest of us gravitate to one another. I have seen social circles within social circles, and feelings have been hurt. I have seen that a lot.

I am mostly sitting on the sidelines watching this parade. She brought me to this charade. She introduced me into all of this. She is the first person I met within this group. She has always held this over my head, usually in an unspoken way. But sometimes she has been blatant, and basically informed me and my husband and a few of our other friends that we would never know these people had it not been for her. I know that sounds incredibly rude of her. What other way is there to meet people, right? But I have to say that the anti-social person in me has unconsciously said, 'ok, if I have to include you every time I associate with anyone else that we now mutually know as 'friends', then I won't actively seek to hang out with anyone, because, you know what? That's fucked.'

I've never said that to her. Or to anyone. I'm just saying that sometimes I have been mostly comfortable with the level of my social involvement within this massive group of women. Women who quite frankly scare the shit out of me. The last time I associated with this many women at the same time, I was singing the Greek alphabet and doing Jager shots, and even then I was not totally convinced that I felt comfortable with this kind of forced sexism. The guys are more fun to do Jager shots with anyway.

So as I've been watching the group start to drift off into smaller groups and cliques, and as I've watched the girls choose their "besties", I've had the foresight to see that this is all going to fall apart. And when my introduction into the circle is drifting, so is my involvement in the social scene that is Naples.

Or is it? This could be my opportunity to spend more time with people I like but have not really made an effort to socialize with on an individual basis.

Last weekend we hung out with her and her asshole husband. God, he is really an asshole. My husband was a saint, however, and made a huge effort to engage with the asshole, and ultimately pretend that we are all friends. It kind of feels like we are on a reality TV program and we are all pretending for the cameras. But as soon as we leave to go home, and the cameras are off, we can be ourselves again. We can talk honestly again. We are real.

Her husband is out of town again. She wants me to come over tonight, bring the kids, swim, play, drink wine. I so want to go and drill her again. What's going on? How are things with the asshole? Has he blown up and thrown any wine glasses across the room? But she has told me she doesn't want to talk about it every time I see her. Me thinks a few glasses of wine could change all that. I just wonder what else will change. And is it me? Or is it her?

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Monday, June 8, 2009

I had to process and download. It took several days. It totally exhausted me. My eyes were droopy and my head fucking hurt.

There were a lot of conversations. In the end I apologized, and I also said I didn't think I had done anything wrong. When I said I thought I hadn't done anything wrong I felt like I was being insensitive. She made me second guess myself.

We talked, sort of, about all the marriage drama. She basically told me that she feels ostracized for telling us about this. I told her she was wrong. Flat out wrong. This all started earlier than that.

She explained that she felt hurt. Sad. She was probably jealous. She didn't say so.

It turns out she had a terrible 7 year anniversary. I don't know the details, but I know it wasn't a happy day. And after cooking and cleaning and putting the kids to bed, she turned on Facebook to see what was up. She felt slapped in the face when she saw her good friends hanging out, again, without having been invited. I get it. That does suck.

She lashed out at us. We still don't know details of that day. It was supposed to have been her 7 year anniversary. But she ended the day pissed at us about a Facebook photo.

It all makes me think about myself. My own relationship. I realize I'm a real fucking loud mouth. I would not go one single day without bitching that mother fucker out. Without just leaving. I know the house could be mine, but I'd get the fuck out, with my kids. And then tell him to pack and get out.

Whatever. It's not about me. And she told me that.

She said that she doesn't want to talk about this every time she sees me. I am part of her escape; her way out. Less thinking. More drinking.

And now I'm stuck between my gut instinct and my friend's wishes. What is this place? I've never been here. I don't feel welcome.

How does it end?

There are three broad possibilities:

He beats her or humiliates her to a point where she cannot ignore it publicly

He leaves her

My friendship with her ends, at some point down the road. It has already ended with her husband, and he knows it.

Monday, June 1, 2009

I am at a total loss for words. I'm here to try document this. For myself, I guess. It's as though I went back in time, to high school, where egos are easily bruised, and cliques are tight. It's as though everything I thought we all had learned over time is completely irrelevant.

Tonight I went to my friend's house after work. This is the 'other' friend, the one who is also in the know about the beatings that we have heard so much about.

My husband and kids were there. How we all ended up there is irrelevant, but it shouldn't be. So there we are. We are making dinner. We are teaching each other how to make "healthy food". Whatever that is. That's what was going on. Lots of fun, silliness, and 5 kids running around.

A picture was posted on Facebook. And 3 minutes later, a text message, from the girl I've been telling you about:

Why is it that the ____ family is always left out of the mix? A tad upset over _________ but truly upset over tonight and the post on facebook? Thanks...

Whoa. Out of left fucking field. So you understand, the first blank is their last name and the second blank is a reference she made to another event in which a pic was posted on Facebook.

Not that I need to explain anything, but both events included circumstances that were not intentional or premeditated. I totally know and agree I don't have to explain it, but that's that truth.

So we're all in shock and awe. What the fuck. Do we respond? How? Does she seriously not: A) understand that she spilled her guts to us and said her husband beats her and she's not in love with him anymore? and, B) understand that shit happens? People get together, it's not personal?

Ok, yea, yea. I am going to say right now that I get that everyone has jealousy and it happens. It just happens that you wish you were somewhere you aint. But how is that my problem??

We hem and haw. My friend replies to the text. I forget what she said, but something like, 'Are you serious?'

We get another text. It says:

Totally upset... sad... disappointed..very...

Huh. Well then. Now what? We know we've done nothing wrong. And we still cannot understand why she would think we'd want to hang out with her family, as if nothing is wrong. Oh yea, and remember that one detail in the post below? Today is their 7 year anniversary!

We get another text. Its says:

Knew this would happen.... very upset...

Jesus christ. This is fucking ridiculous. So I finally reply. I say:

Knew what would happen?? I'm totally confused. We need to talk. Since tonight is your anniversary i'm assuming you're not available??

She never replied. My friend and I went outside to call her. She didn't answer. We left a message saying please call us. Nothing. We text her. We say something like, 'wow lots of texts and you can't talk?? pretty shitty.'

She says:

Me being shitty? Hardly. I go out of my way for both of u and am a complete friend all the time. u know that.. totally hurt by your actions...

and then another:

Heading to bed... exhausted...

Through the whole thing I only replied to her once and left her one voicemail. I am pretty hurt but not in a cry-my-eyes out way. I'm not stalking mad. I'm just so confused. How the fuck can she disregard everything she has said? She wants a fairy tale life.

I guess I am in untethered waters here. I don't know what's up or down at this point. I don't know where my place is or what I should say, or when, or to whom.

Yes, I know and understand that I'm writing about Facebook photos and text messages. That I haven't even talked to her. But I'm still unhinged. It's unreal to me that she would send messages like that. I understand she is angry and upset, and hurt. I don't understand what I did. I really don't.

I've decided to take what I've learned in life, and to finally apply it here. Right now. I'm not saying anything. I'm not replying with my one liners, my trite comments, my honesty. I'm staying quiet right now. We'll see what happens tomorrow.

So I haven't actually talked to her since they returned from their night away. An anniversary celebration. Gag me.

But I have received a few text messages, and I saw some shit on Facebook. What a joke. They are in love again, or at least that is what she's telling herself. One night away - 30 hours total - and the problems of the world are solved. Voila! They must have magic in the water there!

Uh huh. They sat by the adults only pool, had some "great talks", went to a fancy dinner, played cards, drank, probably had sex. I shudder to think how he must order her around. I have some knowledge of their sex life. A little, not too much. I know that he is extremely selfish. And I don't mean he cums first and then falls asleep. I mean he demands that she perform acts on him as a kind of tit for tat. Something along these lines:

Him: So, you want to go out with your girlfriends? You can go but first you have to give me a blowjob now, and also give me one when you get home.

Gross, huh? I think so. I'm not a blowjob kind of gal, but that is just wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. If she and he were like sex kittens and constantly going at it, and if that's what they like, then it would be different. But it's not like that. He demands that she service him. Sick.

So anyway, all is well in their world. They are fine. They talked about a lot of things. They relaxed.

And now I'm actually more concerned. Because we all know there will be another blowup, probably in about 2 weeks is my prediction. But will she tell us when it happens? Will she keep us engaged in helping her sort all this out? Or will she stop telling us anything, because when she does, she knows we won't forget; we won't let up. We can't let her dismiss what he does to her and to their children.

I will see her this Wednesday. She's coming to my house for a party. I will probably get a chance to talk to her more then. I know she is going to say that everything is fine, that they talked, and had a great time together. I don't know what I'll say. Knowing me I'll be all-too-honest after a couple glasses of wine. I'm trying to stay politically correct. I'm trying to stay out of their business. I'm trying to remind myself there's nothing I can do except make my own wise choices. But every time I hear that she said they had a great time, I can't help but think it's great until the next time she gets choked. And it will happen. Sooner than she is expecting, I'm sure.